Bittersweet
by cArLaMp08
Summary: Can what was lost be found again? Draco and Ginny find the answer to this question.
1. Prologue: Unraveling Thoughts

**A/N:**

No one could claim to be a wonderful writer nor could anyone be told that he is a horrible one. It all depends with the way you pour heart and soul to the words that come out and mesh together to form a story… And no matter how you say it in so many or so little words, all that really, truly matters is that you found time and spirit enough to write it down, and when, in the long run, someone out there appreciates your small effort, the true joy and contentment of being a writer comes into being.

Summary:

Then, they were two lost souls and fate had made them find each other amidst the chaos and confusion. But she who had given them the other cruelly yanks them from the others arms. The question remains: will this fickle lady, who determines their very life put them back together again? Rating T is for subsequent chapters...

**Bittersweet **

Prologue- Unraveling Thoughts

"_Memories are never destroyed, just lurking at the back of our mind, straining to break free."_

'_Karma… my whole entire existence is based on karma…'_ the thought passed through her mind as she suddenly lurched forward and the incessant horde of people behind her pushed one another to get a coveted seat on the train they were all boarding. This action had almost caused her to fall flat on her face and become a victim to the trampling of her fellow passengers.

'_Yes, this is what you get from doing everything that your whole family is against… a fat lot of karma' _she sighed as she looked about her, glad that she was seated when she saw how hard it was for the others, who were on their feet, to maintain their balance as the express train sped forward.

'_Who would ever imagine a witch condemning herself to using public Muggle transport when there's the ever-reliable Floo Network or the speedier Apparating…? But then again, I deserve this… For all those things I did.'_ If you had been seated across from her at that exact moment then you would have noticed how what little color her cheeks had disappeared as though she was overly depressed about something.

However, being pale did nothing to hide the good looks of the owner as she was seated there looking all normal, if you call gloomily depressed normal, and pretty in ordinary Muggle clothes, her red hair still shining vibrantly though confined in a severe pony tail, her blue eyes still devilishly striking despite its lack of light and the high cheekbones giving her a somewhat hollow, regal look.

As she stood up and was obviously nearing her station, the way her shoulders drooped and the sigh that escaped her lips attested to the fact that something had made her so unnervingly miserable and the uninterested glance outside established the fact that she was severely tired of her life.

The moment the train halted, she took small insipid steps towards the nearest exit, which had opened upon their arrival. She walked so slowly that the people behind and before her begun to be impatient and pushed against her therefore trapping her between two streams of people. She didn't fall down nor was she pushed back for with her minimal sense of self-preservation, she got out safely.

From the moment she stepped out of the train, she beheld the hurly-burly activity in the station and she was such a stand-out being that she was the only one there not hurrying somewhere. There she was like a lost soul not hurrying anywhere, unlike every other person to be beheld.

People were pushing her intolerantly as she walked uncertainly to her exit and on to the street. She sat in a waiting shed as she awaited the arrival of her bus. At that interval she suddenly began wishing that she could just wave her wand hand and take the "Knight Bus" home. But then, the "Knight Bus" didn't cater for witches living in Muggle territory so she had to be content to wait in impatience.

The bus came then, undoubtedly slower than the purple witch's bus but she boarded it just the same taking a seat by the window so she can stare at the streets in true glass-eyed fashion. The beautiful houses and engaging stores her bus passed did not coax a smile to form on her lips. Instead, if possible, she became sadder as though she had just been shown something even more dispiriting.

She snapped back to reality just in time for her to hear the conductor call out her stop and she stood up, grasping the back of the seat in front of her for balance. When the bus halted, she walked so slowly that the conductor snapped at her to speed up but she didn't as she wasn't really functioning all that properly.

As the conductor all but pushed her out of the vehicle, she was once again on the street. She stopped in front of a three-story building where the flat she was renting could be located. Heaving another one of her countless sighs, she pushed open the front door and headed up the flight of stairs to the second floor where her living quarters were situated.

She turned the key on the lock and pushed open the door, welcomed by nothing but a deafening silence, which was such a startling contrast to the noisy, family life she had grown accustomed to.

She sat on the first chair she reached, a comfortable Victorian armchair, and tugged at the band encircling her hair. Free of its strict confinement, she combed her fingers through her deliciously carrot-colored hair, a legacy well-known in her family, something that had been passed down to her and all her brothers.

Ah, she missed her brothers so… Sure, they teased and tormented her but that was a product of love, but when they had all but thrown her out on that fateful day, the caustic remarks had been anything but founded on love. No, those words had been thrown at her for the single aim of wanting to hurt her and show her how wrong her decision had been, to point out that she had not only hurt them but endangered them as well without seeming to care that she did.

But they had no idea just how much she loved them. And with that love she knew that they would be hurt more by not knowing than the actuality that was. What she hadn't known was that by telling them, she had inflicted so much pain upon them. Maybe this was why she had humbly and silently accepted their biting insults.

And being a glutton for punishment, knowing how wrong she had been, she had packed up her things, thrown her wand away and counted what money she had to see if it would suffice. She had stowed away in the middle of the night, her destination— the Muggle part of England, to lose herself, to forget everything, to give up being a witch and to make sure they couldn't follow her.

For what she really needed was to inflict this pain upon herself to teach herself that she had been mistaken. Oh, how mistaken… but back then, the mistake had only seemed a challenge, which had evolved into a complex emotion akin to love.

She remembered her fifth year in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry when people all assumed, incorrectly of course, that she was in love with Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. But she wasn't, never had been. She only respected him as the famous icon she had been familiar with from the moment she was born. No, to her, Harry had been and always will be a sort-of idol, a friend, even a brother but never as more, oh, never more. No, she had been reserving that place in her heart for some unknown entity, who she was set to love and give her whole care and devotion to.

What her innocent little heart hadn't counted on was the fact that she was going to fall in love with the wrong person and how, such love, reciprocated it may have been, was founded in a basis of confusion, chaos, and even betrayal…

* * *

He was standing on the edge of a cliff; he didn't mind the danger of such a precarious position. Nor did he mind the mist that was forming before him, obstructing his view. For he wasn't looking at the dreary, mysterious view before him or paying attention to the place he was at, his thoughts were in a different place, a faraway place, a safer place. 

He turned his back on the trees and hills he had been staring absently at for quite some time. It wasn't that he had been bored with the view; he hadn't even been looking at it. No, he turned away because his body had told him to and his mind had not protested being too engrossed in thinking. As he stood there, gazing dully at the vast land, he angled his head in a thoughtful gesture that seemed to suck away his tiredness.

But tired he was, tired of the emotional turmoil raging inside him, the guilty churning of his stomach and the staccato beats of pain in his disjointed heart. _'Maybe it's karma…Karma for doing something that all people looked at with disdain. Doing something that merited the raised eyebrows of everyone in my life who knew.' _He sighed for he was feeling so hopelessly lost and didn't know what to do. The only thing he knew was that he was lying, lying to himself and what his heart had been telling him right from the start.

'_Why wasn't I more careful? Why didn't I take a step backward instead of initiating it all?'_ and he sighed even more for he knew that even if he had known what would have happened and that whatever may have transpired, he didn't regret it. In fact, the only thing he regretted was that the brightest days in his life had ended.

Standing there, so white amongst the trees in the darkness, anyone who would have seen him will have likened him to a ghost— immobile, pale and almost lifeless. Though unmoving, the wind ruffled his brilliant platinum blond hair, all sleek and glossy being devoid of gel.

His face was fair, too. No color, except maybe a slight sign of the vigor it felt from being exposed to such a stinging and cold wind. The truly extraordinary thing about him was his eyes. They were grey and their target would have gone rigid had it been aimed with a cold, sharp look. But then and there, his eyes had a certain haunted look about them that were truly unimaginable to a gentleman with features as harshly defined as his were.

He snapped back to reality and must have realized what time it was for he started walking on a path that led to a mansion. The mansion was where he lived and, for the past few weeks, he had begun calling it 'his place of torment.'

Yes, he had been born into a family that was great in wealth, influence and pride. Being an only child, he had been exposed to such luxuries like getting what he wanted and believing that he was superior to everyone. Coming from a 'twisted' pureblood family with immoral principles, he had been reared with the belief that he was a part of the best in the Wizarding World with Lord Voldemort as his ideal.

Yes, his parents had brought him up into a miniature of themselves. In a way, that he had just recently discovered was a mistake. His belief was something that had been changed when the best thing in his life happened.

Yet when he had made the eternal mistake in their eyes and they had castigated him, he, the coward that he was, had gone back to them when he should have fought for that, which he wanted.

They had told him to forget it, to bury it in the deepest recesses if his mind and never to revive its memory but he knew in his heart that he could never do as they please in that aspect for how could he bury such memories when they were the only wonderful things worth treasuring in his entire existence.

Still, this did not justify him leaving when he did with nary a goodbye or a letter. No explanation, no word…not even a promise that he would come back for he didn't know if he could… How he wished that he had not done what he had done as it was rash and wrong. And it had hurt him so terribly.

Now knowing he had been so mistaken, he knew also that there was no turning back time. All hopes of restoring the right and the wonderful had slipped from his fingertips and the only choice was to regret it and think of it. For maybe, after thinking of it often enough, he could finally convince himself that given the chance he wouldn't change a thing, all the same knowing that he would.

He remembered, he was in his sixth year in Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and everyone pretty much took for granted that he was a Slytherin. No room for love in his heart, set on evil practices to further himself and all set to become a Death-Eater when the proper time came.

Before, long before he knew the wonders of sweet emotions, he had been exactly that… a typical Slytherin, content to wait for graduation if only to serve the Dark Lord and rid the world of the "unworthy" ones.

But his cold, stone heart had not suspected that what would happen would happen. It hadn't expected to be free from the walls and barriers protecting it, and with only the presence and interference of the most unexpected yet most welcome of persons.

Though now it hurt to look back and see the joy; envy its presence then, he knew that though he had fallen in love with the wrong person for the standard of the society he lived in, there was no denying that it had made him what he was now— a better human being. It didn't matter that the love, though selflessly shared, had been founded in a surrounding filled with hate, mistrust and disorder, all of which eventually led to pain and betrayal. It, whatever anyone could say, had still been love.

And what hurt most was he might never see her face again... Except, maybe, in full, vivid detail in his fondest memories…

* * *

And though it hurt that she must never, ever see him again, she most certainly will still remember him for the heart never forgets that which it had once loved and still does… 

**A/N:**

In the world of writing, words are the basic instrument… Put them all together good enough and people applaud you for the wonderful masterpiece you may have created. But when words are decorated with small bits of the author's heart and, soul people will not only applaud you… they are bound to respect and love you for sharing with them the small heaven you have created using your emotions… Then and there, words aren't the only things that matter anymore…

I have no idea if I would continue that or what that is about… But tell me what you think, I am open for anything…Oh, and I guess you know who the characters are even if I didn't mention their names… I will in the next chapter… don't worry… (If there is a next chapter, that is) :-) Oh, and of course oodles of thanks to Janelle, my beta, for all the selfless help and undying support…


	2. Chapter 1: A Simple Life

**A/N: **Hello...

Disclaimer: HP belongs to JK..

**Bittersweet**

Chapter 1- A Simple Life

The morning dawned bright and early but the occupant of the flat on the second floor of the building in the busy street of Muggle London was far from feeling the same. In fact, when she woke up the first thing she did was curse the dazzling sun that was such a bitter contrast to her gloomy, depressing existence.

With feet in slippers she walked over to the kitchen and spooned some tea leaves into a pot. That was the beginning of her everyday life— typical, dull, normal and absolutely miserable. But still, she had a routine and stick to it she did. That was why she then proceeded to the bathroom and did her necessities. But she made the mistake of looking at the face in the mirror. She then remembered that so long before she had been used to seeing a vibrant girl in the reflection.

This was what caused her to think and all her thoughts were so far-off that she didn't notice that she was headed straight for the stove top.

"Ouch!" Ginny cried out as she touched the handle of the pot she had used to steep the tea in with her bare hands. "Of all the stupid, idiotic things to do! Really, burning the palm of my hand just caps it all! Is this the never-ending punishment that seems to follow me everywhere?" She asked no one in particular with anguish as she padded to her bedroom to fetch some liniment to apply on the reddish, scalded areas on her palm.

She reached the room and pulled at the top bureau drawer with her uninjured hand. She rummaged through all the mess and finally found the bottle of witch's remedy she had been in possession of for a rather long time. She twisted the cap open and spread some of the oil-like substance on her burn.

She sat down on a wicker chair and placed her hand face up on her knee noting the slight marks on her hands with ointment in them causing them to sting. Before the incident, tears had already been forming at the back of her eyes and the brief and instant contact with heat caused them to, all the more, want to break free.

Suddenly, the tension, hurt, dismay and failure of the last few days and weeks caught up with her along with the stupid realization that she had nothing. No magic, no friends, no family and no love. Oh, especially, no love, no Draco! All those things made her bury her face in her hands and sob her heart out.

She simply sat there, tears falling almost in waterfalls, spilling out uncontrollably as she thought of all she had lost: Her magic— having been a witch all her life and coming from a family full of them, she had no idea how to be a Muggle and everything that came with it.

Her friends— cutting herself from the Wizarding World, she had had no choice but to cut ties with all her magical friends; it hurt all the more because she had no one to ask help from or to share experiences with.

Her family— having been the youngest in a family of seven children, she was so used to a big family with loving, caring parents all of which were now gone from her life.

Her Love— Draco, because she still loved him and there was no denying that she was never going to get over him; what with all the memories of their times together, it was just too much to handle especially considering that they had not left each other in good terms… in fact, they had not left each other in any terms, period.

After a good, long cry, she looked up and saw, according to the clock, that she had been weeping a nice half hour. She looked in the direction of the stove and saw that she had left the tea still steeping and guessed that it was probably too strong for her now.

She walked up to it, turned the fire off (after great difficulty) and threw the contents down the drain while she used her other hand as a shield against the hot, rising steam. Already empty of its contents, Ginny put the pot in the sink, hoping she would remember to wash it later.

Next, she went into the bathroom and immediately splashed some cold, running water on her swollen eyes. She then looked up from the cool liquid to stare at her face in the mirror. And the sight she beheld was totally different from the pretty, vivacious girl in Hogwarts years ago.

Her eyes were now merely red, puffy slits; her cheeks drained of all color. Her hair was all rumpled up and had been dislodged from the band encircling it; her hands, as she brought it up to touch her eyes, were trembling, a sure sign of stress.

She grabbed a paper towel from the container and wiped her face in front of the mirror. She grabbed some more and began drying her hands while walking towards the kitchen. When she was done, she walked over to the trash bin near the window. That was when something caught her attention. Red sparks! Outside her window… red sparks that looked like they had come form a wizard's wand… red sparks that were uncommon in the Muggle part of England.

She all but rushed to the window to gaze below at the normally calm Muggle streets when she saw a man with red hair sprawled in the concrete streets. Her eyes grew wide in panic as she recognized it as her brother, Ron and beyond she could just see other figures with red hair that stood out.

"Oh No!" Her voice was dripping with distress as she saw that he had been hurt and also that they had probably come to take her. She thanked her lucky stars that she had been forewarned of their presence. That by an incredibly fortunate chance she could evade the people, who she had run from.

Her mind instantly went on panic mode then and she reacted quickly to the situation. She all but ran to her bedroom. She crouched down low beside her bed as she groped for her suitcase, which had several clothes and necessities in them. She had readied this on the first day of her Muggle life. It was done exactly for an emergency situation like this one.

Finding the case she grasped its leather handle and ran to her bureau. She got her purse lying atop it. Not stopping to check if her money and other valuables were inside, she set about applying the plan she had so carefully laid out in case they were, indeed, able to track her down.

She grabbed her coat from the rack and replaced her slippers with shoes. She pulled open the door to her apartment and checked to see if anyone was going to see her. It was too early for that and a Sunday at that so everyone was sleeping in late. She again blessed her stroke of luck with this fact and turned right as she headed for the back of the building.

She pushed open a door, which she knew led to the fire exit and saw the metal structure that was her road to escape. Not stopping to think or see of she was going to be safe, she lunged forward onto the rickety fortification. She grasped the railing for support and climbed the down the steps until she reached the last one.

As there were no steps that led to the ground she counted to five and jumped down onto the alleyway. She was already on another street, faraway from the street where she had spied her family. She heaved a sigh of relief. She had escaped.

She scurried in the direction of the train station that would take her to another part of England far from that city. Grasping her coat nearer her, she murmured, "Sorry, mum, dad, brothers. I'm not ready to face you all yet. I just hope that when I am ready you could already forgive me."

And with one last look at the building that had housed her for eight months, she purposefully walked towards the station and on to her new future. And she sincerely hoped that there was a new future waiting for her out there. And she knew, in the deepest part of her heart were her memories of love, and the consolation that if life had given her such a blessing, it might give it again and she would be there to make sure that, next time, it would last.

**A/N:**

I hope that I made a good choice by actually continuing this story. As for now, I have no idea where it's going…


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